A Moment in the Rain
by Marina Black1
Summary: Lydia tells Peter that he's going to be a father...again. *RATED M FOR A REASON* Part of the 'Moments' OneShot series. Featuring Pydia.


"You smell funny," Malia announced, suddenly appearing before Lydia. Dark eyes narrowed as Malia climbed on top of Lydia, her nose pressing against the crook of Lydia's neck. Inhaling several times, Malia drew back sharply. "Oh…"

"Malia, didn't we have a conversation about personal space?" Lydia huffed, gently pushing Malia off. Lydia's expression remained serious as she sniffed at her own shoulder. "What does it smell like?" She asked, almost concerned. "All I can detect is my perfume and deodorant. I took a shower this morning…" Lydia suddenly grabbed for her heels, her brow furrowed, "Damn it, did I walk in entrails again without realizing it!?" She examined the shoes for any sign of blood or guts but came up empty. "Malia?" The nervous expression on Malia's face made Lydia's stomach turn over uncomfortably. "Spit it out!"

"You're pregnant," Malia blurted. She shrank away as she waited for Lydia to react. Silence hung between them for a long moment. It struck Malia as odd that Lydia's expression hadn't changed at all. The redhead sat there stony and silent, her eyes focused straight ahead. Maybe Lydia hadn't understood? Malia inched forward again; she got very close to Lydia's ear, speaking much louder this time: "I said you're pregnant, Lydia."

Lydia scrubbed a hand over her mouth, exhaling sharply, "I got it, Malia." Standing abruptly, Lydia wrapped her arms around her waist as she moved toward the window. It felt like waves were crashing over her head. Lydia peered down at her hands and she realized that she was shaking. "What else can you smell?"

Malia drummed her fingers against the arm of the couch. Concentrating harder, she closed her eyes. "Fear, I can tell you're afraid but there's something else. Relief, perhaps? And vomit…you've been sick recently. More than once." When Malia opened her eyes again, she sat up straighter, "And steak! That's what I was missing. You've been eating _a lot_ of steak."

Tears burned in Lydia's cinnamon eyes. She cradled her belly gently, protecting the tiny life that grew inside of her. Malia wasn't telling her anything that Lydia hadn't suspected for weeks now. It all started when she sought out Peter Hale for assistance. So far, he was the only one who had ever offered her any insight when it came to her powers. Peter was a walking encyclopedia of bizarre facts and random snippets of information. It annoyed Lydia how smug he got when he started talking, as if he were the omnipotent god of all things supernatural.

Grey rain hammered against the window, dragging Lydia back to the moment when a simple quest for knowledge turned into a battle for domination.

Peter unlocked the door before she was even all the way up the stairs to his apartment. Without hesitation, Lydia pulled open the heavy metal door and slid it closed behind her. Tossing her soaked umbrella aside, she shivered despite the heat. Peter stood in front of the massive row of windows, hands clasped behind him regally. He turned to face her instantly, a halo of murky light illuminating his body. "To what do I owe the pleasure…" Peter practically purred.

"I need your help," Lydia replied, closing the distance between them. Resting her palms on the table that separated them, she sighed. "Whether I like it or not, you seem to know the most about banshees." Her red hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders as she steadied herself. "The most control I've had is when I was reading the memories left behind in your mother's claws…" Peter forced her to harness her power; the anger built inside of her until she was able to achieve laser sharp focus. "This is a matter of life and death…"

A sly smile slid over Peter's features, "Isn't it always with banshees?" Walking around the table, Peter was inches away from her. "I would really love to help you, Lydia…but I fail to see how this benefits me in any way. I already got the information I wanted," He shrugged noncommittally. "Make it worth my while and I'll consider it."

Lydia dug into her purse, looking for anything that she might be able to bribe Peter with. "How about five dollars? I've heard that you can use every cent now that your money was stolen," She replied cheekily. Slipping the crinkled bill toward him, Lydia knew that five dollars wasn't going to cover it. "Couple sticks of gum?" She was growing irritated at how smug he still looked as she grasped at straws. "I don't know what you want."

"Don't you?" Peter murmured, slipping behind her. The warmth of his body pressed against her back as he picked up the tube of lip gloss from the discarded items on the table. The strawberry scent tickled all of his senses. Brushing a strand of hair from her shoulder, Peter rested his head against hers. "Think, Lydia…think harder…"

Cinnamon eyes fluttered closed as she fought against the growing need that unfolded inside of her. "You're disgusting…" She ground out.

"I know," Peter's mouth pressed against her ear, "But you love it." His hot breath fanned over her neck. "I can hear your heartbeat, Lydia. I can smell your arousal…I know the truth." Without warning, Peter's hand dipped lower, exploring the creaminess of her thigh.

Thunder rumbled, the storm picking up in intensity around them…but it didn't hold a candle to the heat rising in Lydia's core. Peter's hand slid up her skirt, the tips of his fingers grazing over the delicate lace of her panties. Lydia couldn't stop the whine of pleasure that tumbled from her lips. Her face flushed scarlet at Peter's dark chuckle. Gathering all of her strength, she pushed Peter away from her.

Peter looked positively wicked. His cobalt eyes glowed with the power of having Lydia in his arms. The turgid length of him pressed against his jeans, aching painfully for her touch. It required all the strength he had to drag in a deep breath. "I was wrong about you. You're not a narcissist…you're a sadist." Peter made no move to advance on her; she would come of her own volition as sure as he was standing here.

Lydia didn't quite trust the strength of her legs and she leaned heavily against the table to steady herself. "If I'm going to control my power, I would hazard a guess that controlling my emotions would be a good first step." She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. Her breasts were heavy and ached for his touch twice as badly as the rest of her. Another boom of thunder accompanied a sickening crack of lightning. It must have struck a tree for moments later the lights flickered and flamed out. Lydia straightened her spine, "I should go."

"Are you out of your mind?" Peter frowned markedly, "I will not allow you to go out in this storm." The rain pounded against the window. If she went out now she'd be caught in the heart of it. "You may think I'm a monster, Lydia, but I would never force myself upon you. If you don't want to explore the passion between us then you need only say so." It wasn't anger in his eyes but hurt. "Do not needlessly put yourself in danger because you think I'm unable to control myself." It burned in his gut that she thought for one moment that he wouldn't respect her wishes. There was nothing more sacred than a woman, particularly Lydia Martin. He would never hurt one hair on that beautiful strawberry blonde head of hers. In an effort to comfort her, Peter put more distance between them. "Sit down, relax, comb through my library…do as you wish, Lydia. I will not bother you."

Another rumble of thunder shook the ground beneath her feet and Lydia knew that Peter was right. Her Prius wouldn't protect her from the violent storm raging outside. "Fine…thank you." Nodding curtly, Lydia brushed past Peter as she headed toward the bookcase. Maybe he had some sort of book on the supernatural or a bestiary all his own; a girl could dream. Unfortunately all she found on those shelves were classics, most of them were well worn and loved. Her fingertips slid over copies of _Les Miserables_, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, and Alice in Wonderland.

Beneath that was a row of what looked like cookbooks, passed down through generations. Gazing upward, Lydia noticed that on the top shelf there were older leather-bound books. Standing on tiptoe she tried to reach but came up short. Jumping to try and reach the edge of the book, she let out a frustrated huff.

"Allow me…" Peter moved behind her again. His hands slid over her hips as he lifted her, putting her eye level with the shelf that she certainly couldn't reach on her own. He was well aware that he could have grabbed the book for her but his way was so much more fun.

Electricity coursed through Lydia as Peter caressed her again. Her eyes fluttered closed and she had to force them back open. Pulling the largest of the books down, she dragged it close to her chest. "You can set me back down now…" Though a part of her wished that he wouldn't. When her feet touched the floor again, Lydia scrambled away from Peter. Maybe it was the full moon approaching or perhaps the storm, but she felt as if she were fighting a losing battle. It was only a matter of time before she gave into him. Peter Hale was nothing if not persistent.

Plopping down on the leather sofa, Lydia's fingers traced over the leather cover of the tome. As soon as she opened the book, she knew what it was. A breath escaped from her lips, drawing Peter's attention. He faced her, watching her fingers slide over the black and white photos immortalized forever. What Lydia had found was the Hale family history. The slight upturn of Lydia's plump lips made his blood boil with desire. He inched closer, "Those are my grandparents," His fingertips traced the lace of her wedding dress and he chuckled, "My grandfather always said that it was love at first bite."

Lydia smiled despite every instinct she had to keep Peter at arm's length. "They look so happy…" Flipping through several more pages, she settled on a photo of a young woman with Peter's cobalt eyes. "Is this—"

"My mother." Peter settled down beside Lydia. "She was pregnant with my sister Talia in that photo." He watched her expression hawkishly as she turned to the page with his baby pictures on it. Some of his favorites were of him and his sister playing together and camping in the forest. "You must be wondering where the pictures of my father are…" Lydia's head snapped up in surprise and she wondered if he read her thoughts. Peter smiled comfortingly, "My father was part of a different pack. It was a different time then…"

"Just how old _are_ you?" Lydia probed.

Peter forged ahead as if he hadn't heard her question. His fist tightened as he struggled to rein in his emotion. "He was around for little more than the conception of his pups. Although, he had one shining moment…"

"What was that?" Lydia asked, her eyes meeting his. It struck her at how vulnerable Peter looked in this very moment. She ached to reach out and comfort him.

"I was a few days old when hunters descended on Beacon Hills. They were killing anyone and anything they could get their hands on. My father handed himself over in exchange for our lives." Turning the page over, his hand traced over the one picture of his father that he did have. "This is him here…"

Lydia gazed at the weathered photo. "You look like him," She said quietly. Lydia was beginning to understand why Peter had pushed her so hard to give him the name of his daughter. He wanted to be a part of Malia's life…he wanted to be the father that he never had. To break the tension, she turned to the last few pages. Lydia stifled a giggle as she happened upon the best photo in the bunch, "Oh my God, is that Derek?"

Peter gazed down at the chubby, naked toddler with his baby fangs stuck into a rubber ducky as Talia gave him a bath. It was quite honestly his favorite picture of Derek. "If you tell him I showed you this, I will deny it to the death. He would never forgive me." Taking the album from her hands, he brought it back to the bookshelf. Reverently, he placed it in its original location. The darkness spread over the house as dusk approached. Padding to the window, Peter folded his hands again, "The storm doesn't show any sign of letting up."

Another bolt of lightning illuminated the apartment, followed by more thunder. It was getting more dangerous for Lydia to leave…but it was also getting far too dangerous to stay. Lydia stood, moving toward the windows. Her fingertips rested against the glass, "I guess I'm stuck here then…"

"I guess you are," Peter retorted. "Do you need anything? Since the fridge is out, I don't have much to offer you to eat. But I have plenty to drink, we'll certainly survive the night." Grabbing a bottle of water from the pantry, he handed it to her. "I'll be back. I am going to get out some extra blankets."

Lydia smirked and undid the cap of the water. Taking a sip, she sighed and wondered if part of being a banshee meant having the worst timing ever. Of all the days she could have picked to confront Peter, she chose the day a raging storm went through and trapped her here. Peter headed up the spiral staircase to the second floor and returned a few minutes later with several quilts. He laid them on the couch along with a pillow. "It'll be dark soon. We may as well get ready for bed while we still have the light to see by. After all, you don't have any werewolf powers to see in the dark." He smirked, "I left some clothing on the bed for you. I'll take the couch tonight."

"Peter, you don't have to do that. The couch is fine—"

"The couch _is_ fine," Peter cut her off swiftly, "But I'll be sleeping there." He narrowed his gaze, "I would never allow a lady to sleep on a couch when there's a bed available, Lydia. I already told you, I'm a gentleman."

Lydia nibbled on her lower lip, "If you insist." Peter was right about using the last of the light they had to get ready. As it was, she had to grope her way through the deepening darkness to find the staircase. Easing upwards, Lydia found Peter's bedroom instantly. The heady scent of his soap and aftershave permeated the air. Closing the door behind her, Lydia stepped out of her skirt. Folding everything to keep it neat, she dragged her blouse over her head. Peter had left her a t-shirt and a pair of shorts with a worn elastic waist that kept falling down her hips. Rifling through drawers, Lydia found a pair of boxers that fit her much better.

Although it was early in the evening, the blackness around her made her want to sleep. First, she needed to get her bottle of water and make sure Peter knew she was going to try and get some sleep. Easing toward the stairs, Lydia felt for the banister. One by one, she took the stairs slowly and gently. Feeling for the second to last step, Lydia was having a hard time finding it. She suddenly pitched forward as she missed the stair and lost her balance. Letting out a scream of fear, Lydia braced for an impact that never came. Her heart beat furiously as Peter dragged her tightly against his chest.

"Lydia!" The instinct to protect her churned in his gut as he cradled Lydia against his chest. His fingers brushed through her hair as he checked her over for any injury visible or invisible, "Are you alright?" She said nothing and Peter was terrified that she had knocked her head or injured her neck. "Lydia!" Peter growled and grabbed her face between his hands, "Answer me!"

Lydia felt a rush of breath leave her body as the adrenaline coursed through her. Falling down two steps probably would not have killed her but her body was not aware of that. She wrapped herself tighter around Peter, hot tears burning in her eyes before she could stop them. The moment had shocked her into awareness again. Lydia could die at any moment. She was weak and mortal and her life was a tangled weave of dangerous situations. Lydia realized that she didn't want to die without ever experiencing the pleasure that giving in to Peter Hale would bring her. Pushing hard against his chest, Lydia covered Peter's lips with her own. She dragged her fingers through his hair, reveling in the downy softness of it.

It startled Peter at first when Lydia captured his lips. Yet her actions were not those of a woman who was unsure. Her hands slid up his chest, tugging at the v-neck shirt he was wearing. Lifting his arms, he tossed the garment away, leaving him bare chested. A flash of lightning illuminated the room again and he nearly wept at the sight of her dressed in his shirt and boxers. No lingerie could ever entice more than this. "Wait…" Peter murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Lydia didn't want to wait and turned her attention to tugging at his jeans, eager to please them both.

Lifting her as if she weighed nothing, Peter carried her back up the stairs and laid her on his bed. He wanted to take his time to explore her and find each and every pressure point that would make her scream his name in ecstasy. Unfortunately, Lydia didn't want to take it slow. She set a frantic pace as she divested herself of clothing and wrapped her body tightly around his. Pressing Lydia against the bed again, Peter's hands sought her breasts and tested the weight of them in his hands. He was rewarded with a throaty cry that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his entire body.

Dipping lower, Peter sucked one of her breasts into his mouth while his hands traced over the generous feast of curves before him. He wanted to find that one spot that made her scream…instead Peter found that his every touch spurned her onward. She was infinitely responsive to him and he could hardly temper himself. The shreds of control were slipping away with every passing second. The situation grew dire when Lydia gripped his hair, tugging against the strands as she moaned his name.

Lydia was not a virgin by any means. She enjoyed making love to Jackson when they were together. Yet she had never had the opportunity to make love to a man who was so comfortable with her body. There was no fumbling, no awkwardness, just Peter's rough fingertips trailing up and down her body. Within moments she was putty in his hands. All he did was touch her and she was ready to come apart in his hands. "Peter, I need you," Lydia gasped.

Peter let out a rumbling growl of pleasure as he captured her lips again. Her lips held a hint of strawberries mingled with lust; it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. Cradling her against his body, Peter entered her in one swift motion. Lydia writhed beneath him, arching upward at the onslaught before capturing his lips again. With every stroke she panted and whined and spurred him onward. In unison they moved, finding a rhythm with the universe as it thundered around them. When Lydia came undone, she was so beautiful that he nearly wept. The moment that she tightened around him, he was unable to hold back anymore. Without hesitation, without regret, he lost himself to her.

Lydia pressed soft kisses to Peter's lips and his neck long after the culmination of their lovemaking. He didn't immediately pull away. There was no shame in his cobalt eyes, only desire. Peter still wanted her, even after he'd gotten what he wanted. It struck Lydia that she might have underestimated Peter's desire for her.

Peter slid beside Lydia in bed, cradling her naked body against his. Pulling the blanket up around them, he nestled them in a cocoon of happiness. Lydia wasn't sure exactly when she fell asleep but when she awoke the next morning, there was a sense of loss when she realized Peter wasn't beside her. Shaking away that thought, Lydia wiped the sleep from her eyes. It was still early but sometime during the night the storm had faded, leaving the world fresh and crisp. The sun was just rising in the East, signaling it was time to return home. Lydia needed to shower and get ready for school.

She quickly changed back into her skirt and blouse. Staring at herself in the mirror, Lydia's hands slid down her neckline to where Peter had marked her. She would have to wear something that covered it up, lest anyone ask questions. Splashing a little bit of water over her face, Lydia smoothed her hair. When she headed back into the bedroom, Lydia found herself sniffing the air. Was that…steak?

Padding downstairs—taking extra time to make sure she hit each one—she headed into the kitchen. Leaning in the doorway, she smirked. Peter was still tousled from sleep. He was wearing the boxers and shirt that she'd taken off last night. "That seems like an odd breakfast choice…"

"It defrosted while the power was out," Peter replied with a smirk. "I figured I better cook it right away." He had tossed away the cream and the eggs to be safe, and there wasn't any bread yet Peter was determined to make breakfast for his queen. "I prefer it rare but…since this is for you, I thought that medium would be more appropriate." He motioned to the table, "Sit down, it's nearly ready."

Lydia bit her lip. "I really should get going, Peter." She caught the barest hint of disappointment in his eyes. "But I will take that to-go. It smells amazing." That seemed to placate him. He grabbed some aluminum foil from a drawer and set it out. "Thank you…"

Peter focused his energy on placing the steak onto the sheet of tin foil and wrapping it up. Stepping toward her, he bent and kissed her chastely. "I should be thanking you. Last night was…the best night of my life." He handed her the wrapped up meal with a smile.

Blushing hotly, Lydia closed her eyes and leaned into his tender kiss. There were so many things she wanted to say…but she couldn't force any of them out. Instead, she held the steak tightly to her chest and hurried out of his apartment with her purse slung over her shoulder. Before she closed the door, she cast one last look in his direction. Every part of her wanted to stay…but she had responsibilities that dragged her away.

Later that morning as she finished up her steak, Lydia closed her eyes to relive the memory. She was frightened that it would fade, leaving her cold and empty again. What she had shared with Peter was special. He said it all: it was the best night of her life. A rumble of thunder catapulted Lydia back into the present. She didn't realize that she was holding her abdomen so reverently.

The last two months had been so filled with danger and drama, Lydia hadn't even seen Peter. Perhaps it was a good thing considering the fact that she was pregnant with his child. The tenderness of her breasts was the first indicator, coupled with the nausea that churned in her veins, and then there was the craving. Steak…she couldn't get enough steak, the bloodier the better. She blamed all the meat she was eating for the softening of her belly. It wasn't too noticeable yet, thankfully, just a little snugness around the waistband of her jeans. Lydia had taken to wearing loose fitting skirts and dresses for that exact reason. Exhaling sharply, Lydia turned to Malia again.

Malia sat up straighter. It had been absolutely silent for the last ten minutes and it had given her time to reflect. "Are you mad at me?"

"Of course not," Lydia replied immediately. "Thank you for telling me. I…sort of already knew but the confirmation was helpful." The conversation about breaking big news more gently would have to come from Stiles…he seemed to be the one that explained things to her the best. There was also no way that Malia was going to be able to keep a secret like this for long. She didn't have a filter and time was of the essence. Lydia made a mental note to ask Stiles about a way to break the news that Malia was going to be a big sister again. That conversation could be very traumatic. So many thoughts were spinning in her head…but one continued to jump to the forefront. Lydia knew that she had to tell Peter that he was going to be a father…again. "Malia, I've got to take care of something very important."

"You mean telling Peter?" Malia asked casually as she grabbed her backpack. Lydia nearly stumbled as she faced Malia again. There was a smugness in Malia's current expression that was wholly Peter. It almost made Lydia laugh. Like father, like daughter…

"You know…" Lydia swallowed hard, waiting for a meltdown that never came.

Malia stared at Lydia as if she grew a second head, "Of course I know…you're his mate. I've known since I met you. Peter marked you." She flashed Lydia a winning smile. "Stiles says that I have a lot to learn about how the world works…but sometimes I think it's the rest of you that need some learning." Shrugging casually, Malia flounced toward the door. "Bye!" She called.

Lydia was left in the living room, stunned by the turn of events. Of all the things that Lydia was sure of, Malia reacting badly was one of them…yet the werecoyote seemed right as rain. Lydia, on the other hand, was jittery and uncertain. Ignoring the thunder rumbling in the distance, she slipped into the Prius and headed toward Peter's apartment. It felt like déja vu as she ascended the staircase, the lock clicking open before she finished climbing the stairs. This time when she reached his place, she hesitated. Taking in a cleansing breath, Lydia opened the door and stepped over the threshold.

Peter was once again staring out the window, watching the storm clouds roll in. Lydia stepped closer and Peter caught the scent of her. Whipping to face her, he noticed the tears burning in her cinnamon eyes. "Lydia…" Peter was at her side in seconds. He cupped her cheek, staring down at her incredulously.

"I know," Lydia murmured. Peter's hand against her face was warm and comforting. Her eyes fluttered shut and the tears slid down her cheeks. "I was reckless…" She confessed, "Careless." Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, "But I won't give it up. I can't."

A powerful surge of relief slammed through Peter and he dropped to his knees in front of her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he leaned his forehead against her belly. "Thank you…" He whispered. Peter pressed a kiss to the barely noticeable swell there where his child grew. When he looked up at Lydia again there were tears shimmering in his cobalt eyes. "You don't know what this means to me…"

Lydia's thumb brushed away the tear on his cheek. "Malia was the one who told me…" She watched Peter's expression change. "She's okay. She actually seemed pretty happy." His eyebrows went up and she laughed, "I know, I was surprised too. She also said that she's known I was your mate since I first met her…and that you marked me."

Peter nodded, "I marked you when I gave you the bite." His fingertips trailed over her side, easing back to her belly again. He stared up at her lovingly. "Whatever you're thinking, whatever you're worrying about, I _will_ take care of you, Lydia. You are my mate…and my queen." Standing again, he held her tighter. "Whatever this child is, wolf or banshee or some crazy combination in between, I will love it…just the way that I love you."

Lydia's eyes widened in shock, "You…love me?"

"Why do you think I chose you, Lydia?" Peter brushed her bangs away from her face. Tenderly, he bent to kiss her. "I know you may not believe that I am even capable of love. You may think that beneath the surface, I am still the monster I once was…but I will spend the rest of my love proving to you how much I love you and our child."

Closing her eyes tightly, Lydia suddenly smiled. "It's not going to be easy…" She covered his hand with hers, resting it against her belly. Peter lifted her easily, carrying her to the couch. Lydia cuddled against Peter while he held her. Neither was sure what was to come but both were sure of one thing: together they could weather anything.

* * *

**I'm on a roll...what can I say...I watched the new episode of Teen Wolf tonight and I will NOT spoil it for those who haven't seen it yet but HOLY PYDIA FEELS. I love this couple! Please take the time to read and review, especially if you want more.**

**This is another one-shot in my 'Moments' collection. These fics aren't related to one another and don't follow the same pattern (necessarily). The only common denominator is PYDIA! Check out 'A Moment in the Woods' and 'A Moment of Domesticity' for more Pydia goodness. **

**HUGE shoutout to my beta JustVisting80 for the exceptional turnaround on edits and being the best internet wifey EVER! LOVE YOU!**

**-Marina**


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